Mirage
by Pigeon Eve
Summary: The fic is a response to a Challenge by MarzeeDoats posted on jericho fanfiction . c o m. Jake's thoughts about 'I'm crossword puzzles, and flannel pajamas, and the occasional light beer.'


**Title** - Mirage

**Author** - Pigeon Eve

**Rating** - PG13 [for some language

**Disclaimer** - I do not own the characters, situations or anything associated with "Jericho". I don't own the Challenge either. Actually, I pretty much don't own anything.

**Author's Notes** - This is my response to Black Jack Challenge #4 by MarzeeDoats posted on jerichofanfiction. c o m

**The Challenge **- Black Jack Challenge # 4: What are Jake's thoughts about: "I'm crossword puzzles, and flannel pajamas, and the occasional light beer."

_**Mirage.**_

-

"I'm crossword puzzles, and flannel pajamas, and occasional light beer,"

She changed the topic so suddenly that he didn't know what to say to her when she finished her speech with that statement. When he thought about it later – he suspected that she had known what she was doing, after all, if he was given a chance to speak, what he would have said? Even now, hours later he didn't know what to say other than that – _'You're right,'_

She was from a world so different than his own. She was so much more different than he. She was… Heather reminded him of a fairy tale. She was so nice, honest and naïve as the princesses in Disney's stories, she needed her prince on a white horse and Jake was not one. He had no place in a fairy tale.

He thought of the differences between them – he had never even looked at the crossword puzzles, they never had held any interest to him and he doubted that they ever would. He wasn't fond of pajamas and he preferred martini to beer. He lived in a world where the light came from sun and blazes of guns not from a smile on passerby's face or a box of sweets.

He lived in a world where people warred and did things that could only be whispered of in dark corners when night offered a cover for their repulsiveness. He lived in a world where he could kill and walk off. He lived in a world where people died without a reason and peace was only a drug induced dream. He survived there so that she could live in her little cozy flat and never be bothered by something more serious than a bad weather forecast.

Jake shook his head; he was getting a little bit too dramatic. Still, the truth was not to be concealed. She was like a nice dream – something to be seen but not touched, something to long for and never receive. A mirage.

Heather was the symbol of what he longed to have and he supposed that that was the reason why he was feeling so bittersweet. He didn't know her well enough to feel truly pained for letting her walk away, he didn't know whom he was letting to slip through his fingers. He just knew that he was sorely tempted to grab her, pull her close and tell her… To tell her that they could try. Even if he knew that in the end it wouldn't work out and then he wouldn't even have a symbol. He was tempted to gamble and lose. He was tempted to risk a dream for one day when they would be the heroes of their own household and nobody else's.

But this wasn't the right time and place. And… Heather was the girl from provincial town, the epitome of peace, safe house and prosperity. She had never seen what he had seen and she would never understand him. Jake didn't doubt that she would try; he didn't doubt that she'd be by his side. He never doubted her loyalty.

He doubted himself. The picture he had conjured up in his mind seemed too flawless, too nice – like a decoy with enemy's convoy coming at your backside. He supposed he was paranoid, but that's what he was. Princes weren't paranoid, they weren't scarred, they didn't screw up – Jake Green did.

He remembered her walking away. He supposed it was for the better. After all, he couldn't give her what she needed. He wasn't the one, he knew that, but _'Then why it is so damn hard to actually believe in it?'_

She was going to stay as she was. He was going to keep her in his memory to remember when… When nightmares would come back. To remember when he would need a reminder – for what he was doing what he was doing. She was going to be his fairytale princess that he would never be able to reach.

A small smile etched its way on Jake's face. _'Heather Lisinsky the most unlikely yet the most fitting fairy tale princess,'_

He sighed and let the issue drop. He had not time to theorize on what obviously just wasn't meant to be. He had a job to do.

'_For a girl who wasn't popular she certainly knows how to attract attention,'_


End file.
